Logs:A Good Deal
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| RL Date: 2 March, 2015 |
| Who: A'rist, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A'rist and K'del talk gold dragons and the bronzes who love them. Also what that means for the Weyrs involved. |
| Where: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 2, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Nimae/Mentions |
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| Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
The second month is marching steadily onwards, and K'del is finally more-or-less 'back' from his I'm-still-working-just-not-always-at-High-Reaches stint. Looking more sun-bronzed than any High Reaches rider has any right to be at this point in winter, the weyrleader holds back at the end of drills, today, first to say a few words to F'manis, and then, ambling idly through the tight-packed snow, to say: "A'rist. Settling back in okay?" Cadejoth has already taken off to resume his post upon the rim, though he watches, now, slowly whirling eyes trained upon 'his' wing as it disperses. A'rist has barely dismounted, and already Lythronath has raised his head, and is sniffing in the direction of those sands. Have they remained intact without him? Has Niahvth remembered her proper place? Wingtips tremble, and tail sweeps slowly, as he considers. A'rist, turning to face the weyrleader, thumbs in his dragon's direction. "About like that, I think." The young bronze is up on his hind legs now, forelimbs balanced in the air. "I dunno. It's strange now." Said as to one who should already know this. "Always is," agrees K'del, easily, though his gaze has already slid away from the younger bronzerider and towards the younger bronze. "Seems he's taken to the hatching sands something impressive?" Unspoken: what's with that? He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shoulders slumping in a gesture that is relaxed enough to imply that this is not a formal conversation. "He bothered them a lot when Hraedyth was on them last, too. Because he's not wanted there. And didn't even get to chase this time. And likes bab- oh for Far- just go." At which point the twitching, trembling, swaying Lythronath uses those great big leg muscles to launch himself into the air. A'rist rubs at the bridge of his nose. "He's making a point, but so far, Niahvth's letting him, seems." And then, "You and Cadejoth didn't chase either, I heard." K'del accedes the point - that first one - with a nod, rolling his shoulders back idly, though his attention is still focused upon the bronze as he takes off. "Ah," he says. And, "Mmm. Guess it probably doesn't much matter, not until she's actually got eggs, anyway. And at that point... well, she can always command him away, if she wants to." He's staring off into the distance, no longer at Lythronath but equally not at A'rist as he adds, "No. Not as long as Cadejoth's Hraedhyth's mate. The odd green, maybe, but no golds." Beat. "But I made sure we weren't here, just in case." "That'll be... a day," A'rist decides, with a bit of a grimace. K'del's answer to his question makes the younger bronzerider pause, consider. "For whose sake?" is asked after that moment. Grimace or no grimace, K'del makes no comment - although he does, finally, turn his attention back onto the other rider, blue eyes considering him thoughtfully. "The Weyr's?" he suggests, though the way he says it makes it sound as though that's not necessarily the whole truth, nor even one he's sure about. "Don't think he'd go, not the way Hraedhyth-- she has him, you know? There's no more eggs, but they're still mates. But it'd be bad form if he did chase; looks bad, causes bad feelings, all of it. So it's better to avoid." A'rist repeats, "The Weyr's," with a bit of a droll little smirk. Not necessarily the whole truth, nor necessarily bought into. "I think I kinda get it. How she has him. How she could have him," said in such a way that, hopefully, K'del follows his train of thought to the sands and the pesterer there, "if it'd gone different. I don't know, though... does Cadejoth feel the same? When there's not a shiny gold in the skies, anyway?" K'del gets it - must get it, really, the way his expression twitches and then freezes, just for a moment or two. The things that could have been, might have been. "He does," he says. "It wasn't that way with Iovniath. She didn't want him; didn't even want him on the sands with her, the first time. It's no wonder he chased other queens, with Iovniath. But now..." he shakes his head. "He and Hraedhyth fit." There's a pause, and then he allows, "For the moment. Who's to say what'll happen when she rises next." And suddenly it's uncomfortable, talking about Hraedhyth, and Cadejoth, and Lythronath. A'rist pushes his hands deeper into his pockets, pouching his jacket out in front of him. "I wanted to chase, too. Niahvth, I mean." A safer topic. "But Lythronath... being away's not good for us. Not if we mean to be back." Safer. "And we didn't know anything about them. Still don't, not really." K'del is slower to respond, over this, his expression turned more serious than simply thoughtful. He blows out a breath, which fogs in front of him, and finally nods. "Lythronath's better, belonging," he agrees. "We'll not send you away. There'll be other queens to chase. If we're lucky, we'll get a permanent junior out of Niahvth; one we don't need to return." It's not even a direct answer, not wholly. It's what he's got, though. A'rist looks sidelong to the weyrleader, the pouch slowly relaxing as his arms ease up. He answers K'del's cloud of breath with his own, shoulders relaxing with it. Soon he'll almost be standing easy. "You mean Niahvth and Irianke," decided at length. "That you have to return. Or," looking more squarely at the weyrleader now, "are you talking about the weyrlings?" "Niahvth and Irianke," is quick - too quick, perhaps, though there's nothing in K'del's exprsesion to suggest he's being evasive. Indeed, the lift of his eyebrows and the near-defiance in his eyes rather encourages further questioning. A'rist is waiting for all those things, the expression, the flashing eyes. He lifts his chin a little, and huffs out another breath. This cloud is simply incidental. "What were the terms of them coming here?" "The deal," answers K'del, with patience that is perhaps a little over-exaggerated, "was brokered between Nimae and Azaylia." It's not quite 'don't blame me!' and yet... "Irianke will stay with us until her clutch graduates. Azaylia gets her help and support, and we keep most of her clutch, including any gold and all the bronzes. A'rist's nose wrinkles just a little bit. And turns toward the sands once again. "So," said in Lythronath's direction more than K'del's, "all Igen gets out of it is a handful of blues?" His dragon might be blamed for that metonymy. "They short on them?" is droll once more. By this point, K'del can't seem to help himself: he rolls his eyes, staring upwards towards the dully blue sky as if to compose himself before answering. "Igen's junior gets experience outside her home Weyr. We attempt to build better relations between our Weyrs. Shells, I don't know. It's politics. It's a good deal, for us." "It is a good deal. For us." Which is surely why he's almost frowning, when A'rist looks back over to K'del. "Weird," the younger bronzerider sums up at last. K'del opens his mouth, stops, closes it again, and finally gives a short little nod, exhaling. "Yes," he says, quietly. "And this is Igen, so..." So can they trust it all? Who can tell. "But there are simpler and less obvious ways to spy on us, if that's the intention. And... well. There it is." "There it is." A'rist is getting very good at repeating the things K'del is saying. He takes one of his hands from one of his pockets, and reaches to scratch under his headgear, right at the top of his neck. "Guess we'll see how things go." It's said like 'goodbye', sort of. "Guess so," agrees K'del, neutral except for the note of ruefulness. It, too, holds an air of 'goodbye,' and certainly it gets followed up by the bronzerider turning, clearly aiming to head off into the day. |
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